Left we remember ftill, that we have none.
Fy, fy, how frantickly I fquare my talk,
As if we fhould forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands?
Come, let's fall to, and, gentle girl, eat this.
Here is no drink: hark, Marcus, what the fays,
I can interpret all her martyr'd figns;

She fays, the drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her forrows, mefh'd upon her cheeks.
Speechlefs complaint !O, I will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect,

As begging hermits in their holy prayers.
Thou shalt not figh, nor hold thy ftumps to heav'n,
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor mak a fign,
But I, of thefe, will wreft an alphabet,

And by ftill practice learn to know thy meaning.
Boy. Good grandfire, leave these bitter, deep, laments;
Make my Aunt merry with fome pleafing tale.
Mar. Alas, the tender boy, in paffion mov'd,
Doth weep to fee his grandfire's heavinefs.

Tit. Peace, tender fapling; thou art made of tears, And tears will quickly melt thy life away.

[Marcus ftrikes the difb with a knife. What doft thou ftrike at, Marcus, with thy knife? Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my Lord, a fly. Tit. Out on thee, murderer; thou kill'ft my heart; Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny: A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus' brother; get thee

I fee thou art not for my company.

gone,

Mar. Alas, my Lord, I have but kill'd a fly. Tit. But?-how if that fly had a father and mother? How would he hang his flender gilded wings, And buz lamenting Dolings in the air? (12)

a

(12) And buz lamenting Doings in the Air.] Lamenting Doings, is a very idle Expreffion, and conveys no Idea. The Alteration, which I have made, tho' it is but the Additionale Letter, is a great Increase to the Senfe; and tho', indeed," is fomewhat of Tautology in the Epithet and Subftantive annext to it, yet that's no #w Thing with our Author.

Poor harmless fly,

That with his pretty buzzing melody,

Came here to make us merry;

And thou haft kill'd him.

Mar. Pardon me, Sir, it was a black ill-favour'd fly, Like to the Emprefs' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.Tit. 0, 0, 0,

Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou haft done a charitable deed:
Give me thy knife, I will infult on him,
Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor
Come hither purpofely to poifon me.
There's for thyfelf, and that's for Tamora:
Yet ftill, I think, we are not brought fo low,
But that between us we can kill a fly,

That comes in likeness of a cole black Moor.

Mar. Alas, poor man, grief has fo wrought on him. He takes falfe fhadows for true fubftances. Come, take away; Lavinia, go with me; I'll to thy clofet, and go read with thee Sad ftories, chanced in the times of old. Come boy, and go with me; thy fight is young, And thou shalt read, when mine begins to dazzle.

A C T IV.

SCENE Titus's House.

Enter young Lucjus, and Lavinia running after him; and the boy flies from ber, with his books under his Enter Titus and Marcus.

arm.

HFollows ane every where, I know not why.
ELP, grandfire, help; my Aunt Lavinia

Good uncle Marcus, fee, how swift she comes:

Alas,

Alas, fweet Aunt, I know not what you mean.
Mar. Stand by me, Lucius, do not fear thy Aunt.
Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.,
Boy. Ay, when my father was in Rome, fhe did.
Mar. What means my niece Lavinia by thefe figns?
Tit. Fear thou not, Lucius, fomewhat doth the mean:
See, Lucius, fee, how much the makes of thee:
Some whither would fhe have thee go with her.
Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care

Read to her fons, than fhe hath read to thee,
Sweet poetry, and Tully's oratory :

Canft thou not guefs wherefore the plies thee thus ?
Boy. My Lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
Unless fome fit or frenzy do poffefs her:
For I have heard my grandfire fay full oft,
Extremity of grief would make men mad.
And I have read, that Hecuba of Troy

Ran mad through forrow; that made me to fear;
Although, my Lord, I know my noble Aunt
Loves me as dear as e'er my Mother did

And would not, but in fury, fright my youth;
Which made me down to throw my books, and fly,
Caufelefs, perhaps, but pardon me, fweet Aunt;
And, Madam, if my uncle Marcus go,

I will most willingly attend your ladyship.

Mar. Lucius, I will.

Tit. How now, Lavinia? Marcus, what means this? Some book there is that fhe defires to fee.

Which is it, girl, of thefe? open them, boy.
But thou art deeper read, and better skill'd:
Come and make choice of all my library
And fo beguile thy forrow, 'till the heav'ns
Reveal the damn'd contriver of this deed:
Why lifts the up her arms in fequence thus ?
Mar. I think, she means, that there was more than one
Confederate in the fact Ay, more there was:
Or else to heav'n fhe heaves them for revenge.
Tit. Lucius, what book is that the toffes fo?
Boy. Grandfire, 'tis Ovid's Metamorphefes;
My mother gave it me.

Mar.

Mar. For love of her that's gone, Perhaps the cull'd it from among the reft.

Tit. Soft! fee, how bufily fhe turns the leaves ! Help her what would fhe find? Lavinia, shall I read ? This is the tragick Tale of Philomel,

And treats of Tereus' treafon and his rape;

And

rape,

I fear, was root of thine annoy.
Mar. See, brother, fee; note, how fhe quotes the leaves.
Tit. Lavinia, wert thou thus furpriz'd, fweet girl,
Ravish'd and wrong'd as Philomela was,

Forc'd in the ruthless, vaft, and gloomy woods?
See, fee;-

Ay, fuch a place there is, where we did hunt,
(O had we never, never, hunted there!)
Pattern'd by that the Poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
Mar. O, why fhould Nature build fo foul a den,
Unless the Gods delight in tragedies!

Tit. Give figns,fweet Girl, for here are none but friends, What Roman Lord it was durft do the deed;

Or flunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erft,

That left the camp to fin in Lucrece' bed?

Mar Sit down, fweet niece; brother, fit down by me. Apollo, Pallas, Jove or Mercury,

Infpire me, that I may this treafon find.

My Lord, look here; look here Lavinia.

[He writes his name with his flaff, and guides
with his feet and mouth.

This fandy plot is plain; guide, if thou can't,
This after me, when I have writ my name,
Without the help of any hand at all..

Curft be that heart, that forc'd us to this fhift!
Write thou, good Nicce; and here difplay, at leaft,
What God will have difcover'd for revenge:
Heav'n guide thy pen, to print thy forrows plain,
That we may know the traitors, and the truth!

[She takes the faff in her mouth, and guides it
with her flumps, and writes.

Tit. Oh, do you read, my Lord, what she hath writ ? Stuprum, Chiron, Demetrius.

Mar:

Mar. What, what!the luftful Sons of Tamora Performers of this hateful bloody deed? Tit. Magne Dominator Poli,

Tam lentus audis fcelera! tam lentus vides!

Mar. Oh, calm thee, gentle Lord; although, I know, There is enough written upon this earth, To ftir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts, And arm the minds of infants to exclaims. My Lord, kneel down with me: Lavinia kneel, And kneel, fweet boy, the Roman Hector's hope, And fwear with me, (as, with the woeful peer, And father, of that chaste dishonoured Dame, Lord Junius Brutus fware for Lucrece' rape,) That we will profecute (by good advice) (13) Mortal revenge upon thefe traiterous Goths; And fee their blood, ere die with this reproach. Tit. 'Tis fure enough, if you knew how. But if you hurt thefe bare-whelps, then beware, The dam will wake; and if the wind you once, She's with the lion deeply ftill in league; And lulls him whilft fhe playeth on her back, And, when he fleeps, will fhe do what the lift. You're a young huntfman, Marcus, let it alone; And come, I will go get a leaf of brass, And with a gad of steel will write these words, And lay it by; the angry northern wind

(13) That we will profecute (by good Advice)

Mortal Revenge upon thefe traiterous Goths;

And fee their Blood, or die with this Reproach.] But if they endeavoured to, throw off the Reproach, tho' they fell in the Attempt, they could not be properly faid to die with_that_Reproach. Marcus muft certainly mean that they would have Revenge on their Enemies, and fpill their Blood, rather than they would tamely fit down, and die, under fuch Injuries. For this Reason I have correct d the Text,

ン

ere die with this Reproach:

I am not to learn, that or formerly was equivalent to ere. Or, before, ere: Gloff. to Urrey's Chaucer.------Or, for ere: quod etiamnum in agro Lincolnienfi frequentiffime ufurpatur, Skinner in bis GlofLary of Uncommon Words.- But this Usage was too obfolete for our Shakespeare's Time.